


Somewhere Now

by Stark-N-Barnes (StarSpangledBucky)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Boxing, Burn injuries, Fire, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hockey Game Night, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Incorrect Fire Safety, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Winteriron Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 03:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12100092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/pseuds/Stark-N-Barnes
Summary: Nobody has the patience for Bucky’s pining over his roommate, Tony anymore. With some much needed encouragement from his friends, Bucky finally gets the confidence to ask Tony out. Whether Tony feels the same is an entirely different matter…





	Somewhere Now

**Author's Note:**

> My mini bang for the Winteriron Bang :)  
> Many thanks to my lovely artist ezazahaz for the drawing of the first scene from the story : [Somewhere Now Art](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12109320)
> 
> (Just a warning in here, there's talks of people important to Bucky passing away, after a certain event happens in the story. It's fairly distressing for Bucky so I thought I would add this in).

Bucky hissed as the bacon popped in the frying pan, spitting a splash of oil at him which landed on his arm, tingling his skin briefly. He grunted and moved the pan off the heat, before checking on the fried eggs, then to the toaster where four slices of toast popped up with a light golden colour to them. Coffee brewed in two mugs at the opposite side of the kitchen, the aroma hitting Bucky’s nostrils, strong and bitter, yet also melded with a hint of sweetness.

“What’s cooking good looking?”

The brunette turned his head to see Tony in the hallway, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed loosely across his chest. A few strands of his damp, tousled hair were stuck to his forehead from a refreshing morning shower. Bucky smirked slightly as he averted his gaze back to the bacon, bringing it off the heat to let it rest before he’d serve it onto their plates.

“Really Tony? You’re tryin’ me with that old chestnut?”

“Did it work?” Tony asked, grinning when Bucky screwed his face up.

“Gimme a break.”

“Well, can’t say I didn’t try,” he said.

Tony pushed himself away from the wall, then walked over to Bucky with a lazy sway in his stride, propping his head on Bucky’s shoulder when he stopped behind him.

“Looks good.”

“You hungry?” Bucky questioned.

“No I’m just complimenting your food that could feed six people.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes in silent judgement at Tony, lips pressed into a thin line, only to have his expression collapse into that of amusement. He was terrible at pretending to be annoyed whenever Tony’s sarcastic comebacks came into play, though, Tony delivered them far too well for any kind of negative response. Tony was by the coffee machine now, pouring coffee into the mugs sitting beside it, and Bucky didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling in victory.

“I made a lot of food ‘cause Sam, T’Challa, Steve and Thor are comin’ over for breakfast,” he grunted.

“Oh no, that's it, our peaceful morning is ruined,” Tony stated.

Bucky snorted.

“Shaddup, you love the company.”

“Better than your company,” the brunette chided.

“Hey! I'm fun!”

Tony pursed his lips in thought.

“You knit and do crossword puzzles.”

A sharp gasp fell from Bucky's mouth as he slapped the newspaper against Tony's chest, after balancing plates on his hand and forearms to deposit them on the table.

“I knit when I'm stressed or when Brock needs a present for his Nonna ‘cause she likes knitted things. Also, you _help_ me with the crossword puzzles.”

Tony's shoulders shook when he chuckled.

“Only when I know it'll frustrate you if you don't finish the puzzle to go onto the next one.”

“You're cruel,” Bucky huffed out, while flashing a smile.

“Brock and Jack aren't coming down for breakfast?” Tony questioned.

“Uh…I don't know,” he answered.

He watched Tony glance down at his watch.

“Yeah, they won't, brace for impact in five seconds.”

Bucky sighed in exasperation.

“Every damn mornin’.”

Above them, Tony and Bucky heard a loud bang against the wall, a low groan following afterwards which seemed to seep through the ceiling.

“They're awake.”

Tony hummed.

“Hm, won't be hearing from them for awhile.”

“I thought paper thin walls were bad, I take it back, our paper thin ceiling is worse,” Bucky said.

“Could be worse, we could have ended up with bad neighbours.”

“I guess, those two ain’t so bad,” he replied.

“I’m telling them you said that,” Tony mumbled.

Suddenly, a heavy knock sounded in the room, startling Bucky and causing some coffee to splash out of his mug onto the floor.

“Aw…”

Tony covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, as Sam called out loudly from behind the door.

“Wakey wakey! I need my eggs and bakey!”

Bucky groaned.

“I’ll get it,” Tony offered, making his way over to the door.

He swung the door open slowly, being greeted by Sam, T’Challa, Steve and Thor standing outside their door.

“Good morning!” Thor exclaimed.

Tony grinned.

“Morning. Wilson, you didn’t even make an effort to get dressed.”

“Wake me up at a decent hour, then we’ll talk,” Sam groused.

“Seems fair.”

“It’s nine in the mornin’!” Bucky called back.

Sam pointed an accusing finger at Bucky.

“I don’t wake up until ten on a Thursday.”

“I had to drag him from our bed,” T’Challa interjected.

“You put your cold hands on my back!”

Bucky barked a laugh.

“C’mon in, breakfast is waitin’.”

“Hey Buck,” Steve greeted, crossing the room to embrace Bucky.

“Mornin’ Stevie.”

“That's fine Steve, walk straight past me. I didn't want a hug,” Tony muttered.

“Sorry Tony,” the blonde apologised.

Sam stopped in his tracks, before turning around to hug Tony tightly.

“I got you man.”

“See, Sam is the best, learn from it Rogers,” the brunette teased.

Steve rolled his eyes in response.

“I'm the favourite,” Bucky taunted.

“Rude,” Tony murmured.

They sat down at the table to the noise of chairs scraping against the wooden floors, and forks clinking against plates. Bucky passed mugs of coffee around, while Tony slid two slices of buttered bruschetta on top of everyone’s pan fried tomatoes. Sam yawned softly as T’Challa swung his arm around the back of his chair, mug resting against his thigh, smiling when Sam started to wolf into his breakfast.

“Someone’s hungry,” Steve spoke up.

“I’m starving!” Sam shouted, through a mouthful of food.

T’Challa sighed wearily.

“Samuel, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Bucky’s eyes widened a fraction, eliciting a surprised chuckle as Sam frowned back at him, then turned to T’Challa.

“Baby, I love you, but only my mom calls me Samuel, and that’s when she’s lecturing me about something.”

T’Challa’s smiled widely.

“I will keep that in mind.”

Tony sat his mug down after swallowing down some coffee with a bite of bruschetta.

“So how are plans for the wedding going?”

Sam leant up on his elbow.

“We still can’t find a venue…”

“I thought you both picked somewhere already?” Thor asked.

“They cancelled our booking to fit someone else in.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Tony shouted.

“Somebody had more income for their wedding,” T’Challa stated.

Bucky shook his head slowly.

“That’s bullshit.”

All of them fell into a silence that they knew too well, not knowing what to say next about what Sam and T’Challa had just announced. It wasn’t until Tony pushed himself away from the table, retreated down the hall to his bedroom, then came back with a red folder in his hand. He slid it across the table between Sam and T’Challa, before opening it to reveal photos of a lavish estate. Sam squinted at the picture as he ran his fingers over the photos with a curious look on his face.

“Isn’t this that place Maria owns?”

“Look, the two of you deserve an amazing wedding. And if that first place you had booked isn’t going to do that for you. Then let me offer you an alternative. We have a lot of events here like charity functions and parties. So, I don’t think a wedding would be too much trouble to organise. You wanted a garden wedding right?” Tony quizzed.

Sam nodded.

“Well, if I show you these spots, I think they could work,” he added.

T’Challa lifted his head to glance at Tony.

“Are you sure?”

Tony shrugged with a shy grin.

“My mom would be happy to do it. Just, take the folder and think about it, you can decide, it’s _your_ wedding. I won’t be pissed if you say no.”

“Bucky, how do you live with this guy without fallin’ in love with him?” Sam chided.

“Oh I bet he finds it hard,” Steve taunted.

“Shut up,” Bucky laughed, nudging Steve gently in the ribs.

The subject was quickly dropped as everyone dove back into conversation about their jobs or movies they’d recently scene. Bucky, however, stole a glance at Tony beside him, watching him laugh at something Sam said which Bucky didn’t exactly catch onto. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his nose scrunched up when he laughed, Bucky couldn’t exactly help staring with adoration towards Tony.

They’d been roommates for three years, nestled in a homey little apartment in Brooklyn, with reasonable rent and a quiet neighbourhood. Bucky and Tony were friends in highschool, but lost contact when they went their separate ways for college. It was years later before they reunited again when Bucky was seeking a roommate at the apartment since Jack had moved out to live with Brock upstairs. Both of them were older now, times had changed but their friendship hadn’t burned out from their lost contact.

Although, overtime things began to change, mostly with Bucky. Sam’s statement was partially true, he had grown to love Tony in a long space of time since they’d been roommates. Though, these days the ache to want, to _need_ Tony only became stronger and started to show itself more often. Brock was the first one to catch on, then Jack, not long after was Steve and Sam. He wasn’t sure if T’Challa and Thor knew, or if any of their other friends who lived closeby did, something told him they probably did. News travelled fast in their group, but the only person it hadn’t gotten to...was Tony.

“You okay Bucky?”

Bucky saw Tony staring at him out of the corner of his eye, his head turning to lock eyes with the brunette, offering him a brief, warm smile.

“Yeah I’m fine.”

 _It’s not like I’ve been pining for you for a year or anything,_ was what he really wanted to say.

“Okay, but I’m here if you need to talk,” Tony offered.

“Thanks.”

Sometimes he wished feelings didn’t have to be this difficult…

* * *

“You should tell him.”

Bucky’s groan was prolonged before his head hit the back of the bench with a light thud. Brock glanced at him from the punching bag he was standing at, his chest rising and falling heavily. They were working out at the gym Brock owned, late into the evening, when most of the other gym goers were packing up to go home. Bucky wanted to stay for as long as he could, because Tony decided to go out for dinner with Pepper and Rhodey. He’d be lying to himself if he denied that it got lonely back at the apartment without Tony there with him.

“I can’t.”

Brock tilted his head back and shook his head, his hands resting on his hips.

“Why not?”

“Because-” Bucky paused, before shrugging.

“You’re a fuckin’ bad liar Bucky,” Brock scoffed. “C’mon, get your ass up here,” he added.

Bucky hesitated for a moment before grabbing his boxing gloves, only to have Brock stop him with a soft jab to the chest.

“Did you wrap your wrists?” he asked, watching Bucky look down at the floor.

“No…”

Brock sighed as he walked over to his gym bag, grabbing two wrist wraps and tossing one of them at Bucky.

“You want an injured wrist kiddo? ‘Cause trust me, you don’t wanna’ have that...especially if it’s the hand you jerk off with.”

“Ugh. Brock, c’mon man,” Bucky muttered.

“Truth doesn’t hurt.”

“Being too honest hurts,” the brunette rebuked.

“Ah c’mon, I’ve heard you say worse,” Brock replied, as he began wrapping Bucky’s wrist and hand.

Bucky chuckled.

“You tryin’ to expose me for somethin’?”

“Don’t need to, you already know you’re a troublemaker,” he said.

“Asshole.”

Brock’s mouth curved up at the corner.

“You got your mouth guard too? One of us is bound to get a good fuckin’ hit in.”

The brunette stared back at Brock apologetically.

“I forgot,” he murmured.

“Kid, you’re gonna’ be the death of me. You’re lucky I keep fresh new ones in my bag for stragglers.”

Bucky gasped.

“I’m not a straggler! Just...forgetful.”

He placed the mouth guard in and bit down to make sure it fit snuggly, while Brock looked over his wrist wraps.

“You’ll hate bein’ forgetful if you get a punch to the mouth and your teeth knocked out, or a busted lip,” Brock lectured.

“You wouldn’t let me fight if I didn’t have wrist wraps or a mouth guard.”

Brock reached out to cup Bucky’s head, drawing him close to press their foreheads together.

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t. Now focus. You ready?”

“Always am,” Bucky answered, with a smirk.

“That's the attitude I need. C’mon, let's see what you've learnt.”

The pair took a step back to place themselves in an upright stance, gloved fists held out in front of them as they stared each other down. Brock shifted to the left, and Bucky followed, circling around the mat they'd moved to. His eyes focused on Brock while he took a deep breath to get into the zone, moving swiftly around on his feet. He could feel Brock taunting him without opening his mouth, the smirk on his face spreading wider on his face, tempting Bucky to take the first punch.

“Let me see some jabs Bucky. Look alive buddy,” Brock encouraged, bringing himself in closer.

Bucky's fist flew out, connecting with Brock's glove, a loud smack echoing in the gym as his jab was blocked quickly. Brock retaliated with a hefty jab to Bucky's shoulder, surging in for another until Bucky blocked by holding Brock in a clinch. Sweat rolled down their faces, nostrils flared and jaws clenched while Brock shot Bucky a challenging look.

“You ain't focusin’. Wake up.”

“I'm tryin’ alright!” Bucky hissed.

Brock pushed away from Bucky and settled back into his stance.

“You gotta’ get fired up. What's makin’ you angry right now huh? What're ya’ mad about?”

“Myself,” the brunette grunted, jabbing Brock weakly in the chest.

“Not good enough. Tell me more. What are you angry at?” he interrogated.

Bucky exhaled deeply.

“I'm angry at myself.”

Brock nodded approvingly.

“Why are you angry at yourself?”

“I-” Bucky choked out.

He was clocked with another two jabs from Brock, to his shoulder and chest.

“C’mon! Why are you fuckin’ angry? Tell me!”

“‘Cause I don't have the fuckin’ guts to tell Tony I'm in love with him!” he yelled.

“There we go! Keep goin’!” Brock exclaimed.

Bucky worked in a hook between jabs, dodging a few punches from Brock, his hair sticking to his sweat slicked forehead. The brunette grinned smugly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, adrenaline pumping through his body to finally bring out the spitfire in him.

“Focus!” he shouted, catching him in the chest roughly.

Brock's gloves held him in a clinch this time, their faces close enough for them to feel their ragged breaths on each other's faces.

“You gotta’ quit bringin’ yourself down kiddo!”

“Yeah? Well what the hell do you think I should do!” Bucky spat, copping a cross punch to his other shoulder.

“I dunno’ I ain't your fuckin’ parent Buck! You figure that shit out yourself!”

Suddenly, the heavy gym door opened, distracting Brock for a mere second when Bucky's fist went flying, hitting him square in the face with a dull cracking noise sounding out.

“Oh! Shit!”

Brock was hunched over after shucking his gloves off, pressing the back of his hand up to his nose. Bucky dropped his hand down on Brock's back, panicking that he'd maybe hit way too hard. But Brock's shoulders shook as he let out a loud, unrestrained laugh, grasping Bucky's arm for support.

“Brock are you alright?”

“Ugh, kid, you got me good,” Brock snickered.

He straightened himself up to reveal the damage, a bloody nose as well as a busted lip that he ran his tongue over, spitting out the mouth guard. There was a bruise already forming near his cheek and Bucky covered his mouth to hold back a snicker.

“I'm sorry,” he breathed out.

“Why did I get a feelin’ one of you would get hurt?”

The pair turned to see Jack standing at the edge of the mat, hands placed on his hips while shaking his head.

“The hell am I gonna’ do with you both?” Jack uttered.

Brock barked a laugh.

“He’s the one that clocked me on the face!”

Bucky grumbled under his breath and meandered over to the benches.

“Um, you were distracted, and you’re always talkin’ about _focus._ ”

Jack bit back a laugh through a well timed smirk, grasping Brock’s bicep to drag him in close.

“Let me see the damage.”

“It’s nothin’ Jackie,” Brock grunted.

“Hm, you’ll live.”

“How was work?” he asked, patting his hand on Jack’s chest.

“Not too bad, some check ups on patients and a surgery.”

“Savin’ the four legged friends, as usual babe.”

Bucky averted his gaze when Jack leant in to kiss Brock’s forehead, staring down at his hands while he took off the wrist wraps. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and rubbed his hands together to massage some tension out of his hands. The green eyed monster wanted to rear its ugly head at Bucky, but he buried it under other thoughts that would stop it resurfacing. He had no reason nor right to be jealous, despite how much it ached to _want_ somebody to share some happiness with.

“Alright, alright. We’re gettin’ all PDA on Bucky,” Brock drawled.

“It’s fine, guys. I’m not that petty,” Bucky reassured them.

Brock tossed his gloves into his bag.

“Still think you should tell him.”

“Brock…” the brunette whined.

“I’m just sayin’! What’re ya’ waitin’ for kid?”

“Leave him alone, Brock,” Jack sniped.

He walked over to Bucky, who was hanging his head, trying to catch his breath, shoulders rising and falling unhurriedly. Bucky shifted forward to rest his head against Jack’s stomach, sniffling loudly.

“I dunno’ what to do…”

Jack carded his fingers through Bucky’s hair with comforting strokes.

“Hey, it’s alright, you do it in your own time. You’re gonna’ be okay. The worst that could happen is Tony saying he doesn’t feel the same. But he will _always_ be your friend, no matter what. Y’know that, right?”

Bucky swallowed thickly to hold back a sob and nodded.

“I know. I think I’ll tell him on sports night.”

“You’ll be fine, sunshine,” Jack assured him.

Brock sat down beside Bucky, wrapped his arms around the brunette to hug him, then dropped his head to Bucky’s shoulder.

“You’ve always got us anyway kiddo.”

“Thanks guys…” Bucky whispered, gripping one of Brock’s hands in his own.

Jack smiled warmly.

“You wanna’ come to dinner with us?”

Bucky lifted his head to wipe stray tears away with the palm of his hand.

“Yeah...I’d like that.”

* * *

Sports night rolled around on a Friday night. While Bucky usually enjoyed sports night, the fact that he’d told Jack and Brock he planned to tell Tony how he felt, made him nervous. Tony was sitting on the couch with Sam, Rhodey, Natasha and Pepper, beer in hand as he threw his head back, laughing boisterously. Bucky’s attention was only on him while he stood by the open door to the balcony, swirling some whiskey around in a glass. If there was one thing that drew him to Tony, it was his laugh and the glint in his eye when he was happy.

They’d all gathered at Natasha and Clint’s house for the hockey game, spread out around the lounge room, talking and laughing. He could hear Brock’s voice droning in and out, rambling on about the hockey team he was vouching for, the disapproving noises from Steve, Clint, Wanda and Pietro mixing in aswell. Bruce and Thor were over by the food table, ribbing each other, while not too far from them there was Jack and T’Challa debating civilly about _god knows what._ Bucky was sure that was everyone to be accounted for, though, he didn’t pay much attention, not with Tony in the room.

“Hey, Bucko, tell these losers that our team is best,” Brock huffed out, nudging Bucky lightly with his elbow.

“Our team’s better.”

“ _Boo,_ you suck,” Clint teased.

“Sorry, I’m always on Rums side when it comes to sport.”

Brock chuckled, throwing his arm around Bucky’s shoulder.

“And that’s why you’re my favourite person.”

“I’m tellin’ Jack,” Bucky replied.

“Don’t you dare tell Jack.”

“You are all children,” Wanda issued.

Pietro snickered.

“Our team will win fair and square Barton!” Brock exclaimed, before sculling the rest of his beer.

Clint rolled his eyes and jerked his head in the direction of food, glancing at Pietro and Wanda at the same time.

“Whatever, I’m getting more pizza, you two kids coming?”

The twins followed after Clint, leaving Bucky and Brock to their own devices. Brock ruffled Bucky’s hair, then dropped his hand to brunette’s shoulder, rubbing it gently.

“You alright kiddo?”

Bucky shrugged languidly.

“As good as I can be.”

“Hey. Look at me,” Brock said, cupping the back of Bucky’s head.

The brunette looked up at Brock.

“It’s gonna’ be okay. Just...be you,” he added.

“What if bein’ me ain’t good enough?”

Brock frowned.

“Quit talkin’ like that. You’re a champ. Halftime is almost over.”

Bucky chuckled lightheartedly.

“I’m gonna’ go talk to Tony.”

“Good luck buddy. You can do it,” Brock soothed, patting him roughly on the back.

Tony stood up from the couch, approaching Bucky after snatching up another beer from the fridge, greeting him with an easy smile. Bucky stopped in front of him, smiling back softly as he slid one of his hands into a pocket on his jeans.

“Hey,” Tony hummed.

Bucky swallowed the rest of his whiskey and sat it to the side.

“Hi.”

“Everything okay?” he questioned.

“I-uh...can we talk before the game comes back on? Outside...”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, you want another drink?”

“No, thanks,” Bucky responded, bringing his hand up to steer Tony in the direction of the balcony.

They stepped out onto the balcony, a slight breeze prickling over their skin, their footsteps thudding against the timber. Bucky leant his hip on the railing, supporting himself with one hand resting on top of it, the other falling to his side. Tony placed his beer down, arms crossed over each other and propped up on the railing, close to Bucky’s.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to know how you were doin’,” he answered.

“...I’m fine?”

Bucky nodded briefly.

“That’s great, I mean...we haven’t had a chance to hang out for awhile, lately.”

“Oh,” Tony breathed. “Why don’t we go somewhere on the weekend?” he asked.

“That sounds good, I’ve got the weekend off work.”

Tony grinned broadly.

“We can invite everyone else, I think they’ll be free.”

Bucky’s face fell, overcome with a wave of disappointed, his eyes flickering to his hands. He could feel all the courage to share his feelings slipping through his fingers, floating too far out of his reach for him to get it back. It seemed clear to him that Tony didn’t want to be in _only_ his company, everyone else always needed to be there. For Bucky it was a sign that Tony _clearly_ wouldn’t reciprocate, as Bucky had feared. All of his well thought out sentences were swallowed up, dragged down into the very pit that Bucky kept them locked away in, inside his head.

“Bucky?” Tony spoke up.

“Hmm?” Bucky grunted, unintentionally.

“What’s wrong, you’re acting...a little weird around me,” he sighed.

Tony’s hand found Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. Bucky had to find it in him not to flinch away from him.

“Things have been rough lately. I’m tryin’ to figure out how to handle it, and I wanted to make sure my best friend was okay too…”

 _God, you’re a fuckin’ liar_ he told himself.

“Aww. That’s sweet Bucky. I know things are stressful with work, and things like that. But, you’re a strong, hard working guy. I believe in you to get through those hurdles.”

Bucky stared at Tony with false happiness on his face, taking a minute to lose himself in Tony’s honey coloured eyes.

“So you’re doin’ okay? I don’t need to worry about you or anythin’?”

“No, but if things were shit...I’d tell you. And I’m here if you need to talk, about anything at all,” Tony offered.

“Thanks, pal.”

“Come here, time for a hug,” he chuckled, holding his arms out.

As much as it pained him, Bucky relented, accepting the hug like it was every other hug they’d shared with each other. But this one was different...Bucky felt sadness wash over him, the tightening in his chest only growing worse the longer Tony embraced him. He saw Brock watching them from inside, judging by the sympathetic look on his face, Bucky knew he must have been giving it away that he’d backed out yet again.

“I’m going to go back inside, Sam wanted to talk to me about something before the game.”

“Okay…” Bucky murmured.

“You look like a puppy left out in the rain, stop it.”

Bucky brushed it off with a rueful laugh.

“Get outta’ here.”

“See you inside. Our team’s gonna’ mop the floor with you,” Tony chided, heading back to the house.

There was a few hushed voices, then rowdy cheers from inside, before the door clicked shut behind Tony. Bucky turned his back to look out over the street, biting down on his bottom lip, trying but failing to hold back tears. They slid down his cheeks as he covered his eyes with his hand, throat tightening as he took in a sharp intake of breath. His fingers were shaking against his face before he let his hand fall, sniffing noisily.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he hissed, his voice sounding strained.

He barely heard the door opening again, followed by footsteps that faded a few metres away from him.

“Bucky...I’m sorry.”

Brock’s voice stirred Bucky from his thoughts, moving to face Brock, shoulders trembling while he choked back a sob.

“I screwed up.”

Bucky allowed himself to be pulled into Brock’s chest, burying his face into his shoulder, hands clutching fistfuls of his friend’s jacket tightly. He broke down in Brock’s arms, punched out cries wracked his body, tears now racing down his cheeks. Brock cradled the back of Bucky’s head, smoothing his hand back and forth on his hair.

“You didn’t screw up, it’ll be alright. Let it out, I gotcha’ kiddo.”

Inside, Tony peered around the room, searching for Bucky since the hockey was starting again. He weaved past Thor, Bruce, Jack and Natasha, moving back to the door to call on Bucky, only to stop suddenly. His hand hovered over the door handle as he glanced out, brows furrowing when he saw Bucky tilt his head and wipe his palm across his cheeks. Tony continued to watch, the odd sensation of his heart dropping to his stomach occurring when realisation finally hit him, Bucky was crying.

And he couldn’t help wondering _....was it because of him?_

* * *

Nothing cleared Bucky’s head better than an early morning jog. He kept a steady pace along the _Brooklyn Heights Promenade,_ with Steve only a few metres ahead of him. The sun stretched across the river as the sunrise began over on the horizon, lighting up the buildings of Manhattan. Bucky couldn’t hear any of the ambience around him, not with his headphones tucked into his ears and his music at a sound cancelling level. Music was the only other thing that helped when he started to overthink too much.

_I'm running late to somewhere now_

_That I don't want to be_

_Where the future and promises_

_Ain't what it used to be_

Ever since Friday, he couldn’t stop mulling over what had happened that night. Talking to Tony went as smoothly as it could, though Bucky hated lying through his teeth that everything was fine. Tony had stopped asking when he could clearly see the tension that it was causing. In fact, they hadn’t exactly spoken much since then. Bucky would be going to work at the studio just before Tony left for work, by nightfall he was home when Tony was sleeping. It wasn’t something Bucky was accustom to.

Bucky slowed down as he approached Steve, who was leaning against the railing to swallow down a generous amount of water. He flashed him a small smile, before taking his headphones out, letting them fall against his chest where his sweatshirt was zipped up. The brunette stared out at the river while he caught his breath, pushing strands of loose hair away from his face. Steve’s hand clasped his shoulder firmly, prompting Bucky to turn his head and look at the blonde.

“You doin’ okay Buck?”

The brunette shrugged.

“Things have been a little different.”

“I figured that out,” Steve said.

“Tony and I haven’t talked much since game night. But it still feels...normal.”

“Weren’t you gonna’ tell him that you had feelings for him or somethin’?” he asked.

“It’s not just _feelings,_ Steve, this ain’t high school. I’m love with him,” Bucky sighed.

Steve smiled, sympathetically.

“You want my advice?”

“Stevie, nothin’ beats the advice you give me. Of course I wanna’ hear it,” the brunette replied.

“I think you should relax and stop tryin’ to force yourself to tell Tony you love him. Let it happen at your own time, where you don’t feel so nervous to tell him what he needs to hear. Maybe you could do somethin’ for him that might make it easier for you to bring it up.”

While averting his gaze back to the river, Bucky pondered the thought for a moment. Steve did have a point, he always seemed to work himself up to much when the opportunity to confess to Tony arose. He’d never cooked dinner before, only breakfast, and the dull light bulb in Bucky’s mind brightened at the sudden idea of cooking dinner for Tony. Food was always the way to Tony’s heart, Bucky observed that side of him for years since they’d been living together. He also knew Tony’s favourite food, for added brownie points.

“You look like you’ve got a plan,” Steve chuckled.

Bucky nodded slowly.

“I’m gonna’ make him his favourite food for dinner tomorrow night. He’s workin’ late so it’ll be perfect.”

“Do you know what his favourite food is?” he questioned.

“He always tells me about this great steak and vegetable dish he has at a restaurant when he goes to Miami to see his mom. I can recreate it, I think…”

Steve snorted.

“Go for it Buck.”

“Steve,” Bucky murmured.

“Hm?”

“What if I screw this up again?” he asked.

“Sometimes takin’ your chances works out in the end. Try and keep the positive outcome close to you, but...y’know, don’t let it erase the negative one either. You gotta’ be ready for either one of ‘em,” Steve explained.

Bucky’s mouth curved up at the corner.

“Thanks for givin’ me some advice, pal.”

Steve grinned as he swung his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and pulled him in for a side hug, ruffling the brunette’s hair.

“Anytime buddy.”

“So-” Bucky started, while stepping away from the railing. “...last one to the end has to buy breakfast!” he yelled.

The brunette spun himself around and put his headphones back in his ears, before sprinting away from Steve, leaving him behind with a stunned look on his face.

“Hey! Buck! That’s unfair you jerk!” he called out, racing after the brunette.

Bucky won.

* * *

“He’s gonna’ be here soon and you’re kinda’ distracting me from my cookin’.”

Natasha chuckled loudly over the phone.

_“Sorry James, but you’re playing good music, it’s keeping me entertained.”_

Bucky groaned.

“Quit callin’ me James you sound like my mom.”

_“Stop playing good music.”_

The brunette pressed the skip button on the current song to change it to another.

_“Hey! I liked that one!”_

“Well I wanna’ listen to this one.”

_“You’re just playing that because of Tony.”_

“I _actually_ like AC/DC, Natalia.”

Natasha grumbled under her breath.

_“I bet.”_

Bucky smirked as he started humming to the song.

_"Sing Bucky!”_

“Sing with me. Who made who, who made you?”

Natasha sighed.

 _“_ _Who made who, ain't nobody told you?_ _”_

“If you made them and they made you.”

_“Who picked up the bill, and who made who?”_

“You still got it Nat.”

_“I try. But I better go and let you keep cooking. Good luck tonight.”_

“It’s just dinner…”

_“It’s more than that and you know it.”_

“Am I movin’ too fast with this?”

_“No. And don’t be nervous either, you’ve got this.”_

“Thanks Nat. I’ll call you later.”

After ending the call and pushing his phone to the side, Bucky looked back at the steak sizzling in the frying pan. He had everything set out on the table, simple, yet still in a way, romantic. It wasn’t over the top with rose petals and fancy plates, but he did go for some expensive red wine and a candle in the middle of the table. Either way, Bucky was still tossing up between going through with his plan or bailing.

But, he couldn't, Tony already knew Bucky would be home, they always had dinner on Tuesday. Only this time Bucky was cooking, and Tony had no idea about it. Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead from the heat rising off the stove, before glancing over at the time on the clock. He hoped that Tony would be on time, seeing the food getting cold would be a disaster.

Although, he could always keep it warm for a little longer without overcooking the steak and ruining the vegetables. Bucky exhaled deeply as he picked up his phone, sliding his thumb over the new message that popped up. He stared down at it to see Tony informing him that he was only just leaving work, which was half an hour away. It wasn't going to work out for him at this rate.

“God dammit!”

Bucky groaned and slapped the dish towel down on the counter hastily, unaware of the negligence of his actions. Due to it, the dish towel now sat near the open flame, which ignited the hem of the fabric quickly, as well as the heat being turned up, instead of down. Flames licked over the rim of the frying pan, intensifying with the addition of grease that was too hot in the pan. Before too long the entirety of it was engulfed with fire. Only the burning smell alerted Bucky, bringing him back to his senses and sending his phone clattering to the floor.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed.

Panic overtook him, sending every part of common knowledge Bucky knew about safety out the window. In his panicked mind, Bucky didn't think twice about grabbing the glass of water that he had sitting on the counter. He grabbed the glass and tossed the water directly into the flames. With a loud _whoosh_ the fire burst into larger flames, spreading towards the curtains by the windows.

Bucky screamed in pain, his arms in full contact with the burst from trying to shield his face. The empty glass shattered on the floor, sending some shards sliding across the floor and smaller pieces piercing into Bucky's bare feet. Smoke filled his lungs as he began coughing violently, sinking to his knees to find a clear path for crawling over to the door. What alarmed him was the fact that the smoke detector failed to work, as well as the sprinkler system that the apartment building had installed.

“Bucky!”

A hard knock pounded against the door, along with Jack's voice that Bucky was so thankful to hear.

“Bucky open up, are you okay?”

“Jack there's a fire!” he croaked out, between coughs he struggled to hold in.

“Shit. Hold on I'm coming in!” Jack called back.

Bucky heard glass break in the foyer, before the alarm blared through the entire building, the paper thin walls letting Bucky hear every shocked and frightened sound of the residents inside. Tears stung as he went to wipe them away, hissing when he realised his arms were burned, in need of something ice cold then medical attention. He struggled to breathe from the smoke growing thicker, the flames still burning more things in its path.

Despite being in so much agony, Bucky tried reaching for the door handle, but he couldn't find it. He felt like he was six years old again, when his house went up in flames, taking his mother and grandfather with it. Bucky started sobbing hysterically, thinking of how it was once again his fault. When he was six, he'd been playing with matches, now he'd tried to cook dinner, acted carelessly and set the kitchen on fire. He was there again, trapped in his room where the fire broke out, crying for help.

_“Daddy help me!”_

Bucky had yelled for his father.

“Somebody get me out of here!”

Now he was yelling for his friends.

“Hang on Bucky!”

Thudding came through the door from two body's connecting into the door, Bucky was unsure whether it was feet or shoulders, maybe both. Either way, the door creaked against the weight, it was old and Bucky had meant to get it replaced. Whoever it was, they were using every ounce of their body strength to bring that door down. Bucky could barely see, there was too much smoke, on top of too many tears in his eyes.

Finally, the door gave way, swinging open with a crack where the lock was, dispersing some of the smoke into the foyer. Brock and Jack's feet appeared in Bucky's line of vision, their hands reaching out to find him as they coughed from an unwanted inhalation of smoke. The brunette winced when Brock's hand touched the burns on his arms, causing him to flinch back slightly. He had to tell them, even if it hurt to talk or breathe.

“Watch my arms, my feet too,” Bucky cried, weakly.

“Oh shit Bucky, what happened to you?” Brock said, his voice wavering.

“I-I dropped water i-into the frying pan,” he stammered, through haggard breaths

“We need to get out. Bucky I know it hurts but you need to get your arm around my shoulder,” Jack interjected.

He tucked his arms under Bucky's legs, then under his arms, hoisting him up while Bucky struggled putting his arm around Jack's shoulder.

“It hurts too much Jack.”

Jack's grip tightened on where he held Bucky.

“It's okay this is fine, I've got you.”

“Go, go!” Brock shouted, pushing Jack ahead of him.

Bucky’s body trembled in Jack's arms as they made for the stairs, the alarm still ringing in his ears. Residents downstairs fled out the front doors, Bucky could only make out a handful but was silently praying everyone made it out. He could hear Sam and T’Challa’s voices outside the building, followed by Steve's, then Thor’s shortly after.

“Over there!” Sam yelled.

“Buck!” Steve exclaimed.

“Give him space guys,” Jack said, gently placing Bucky down on the grass.

Steve dropped down beside Bucky to examine him.

“He needs those burns seen to as soon as the paramedics get here. I can clean the cuts on his feet and take glass out. Thor, can you get me my kit from my car.”

“Of course,” Thor replied, catching Steve's keys that he'd thrown to him.

Bucky stared at the fire burning away in his and Tony's apartment, blinking sluggishly. He saw Brock staggering over to them before he dropped to his knees, hunched over and shaking with every cough that was punched out of his chest, Jack rushing to his side. His breathing was laboured now, raspy from how much smoke he'd inhaled, lungs aching for mouthfuls of fresh air. Sam's hand was on his shoulder, squeezing lightly to comfort him through the pain that became numb.

“Stay with us man.”

Sirens wailed in the distance, but Bucky's body failed him, allowing his eyes to close and letting unconsciousness take him.

* * *

Tony breathed a sigh of relief as he walked out of the service station, after refueling his car and grabbing a coffee to go. He was relieved to finally get out of work, it’d been stressful, so getting a nice, hot meal and some TV time in before going to bed sounded like a good idea. Bucky had sent a text to him prior to his departure from work, letting him know that he was at their apartment. What caught Tony off guard was how he wrote it, because it appeared sincere, not to mention Bucky mentioned the word ‘surprise’ that piqued Tony’s interest.

His phone chimed several times when he turned the key in the ignition, only to ignore them in favour of keeping his eyes on the road. Tony pulled out onto the road, fingers tapping against the wheel to the song on the radio. Another text flashed on the screen of Tony’s phone, prompting Tony to pull over and pick it up. The text was from Rhodey, asking him to call him, followed by two texts from Sam and even one from Jack. Tony’s mind began racing at every potential scenario as to why he was being text by different people, all at the same time. The only conclusion he could come up with was Bucky.

“But he sent me a text before I left,” he told himself, vocally.

With a few swipes across his phone screen, Tony connected to the handsfree and called Rhodey, while pulling away from the curb.

“C’mon, pick up.”

Rhodey picked up at the fourth ring.

“Tones?”

“Rhodey, why do I have a text from you, two from Sam and also one from Jack?” Tony asked.

He was met with silence.

“Rhodes!”

“It's Bucky,” Rhodey answered.

“What do you mean it's Bucky? What happened?”

“I don't know everything, I was on patrol with Natasha when we got the call ‘bout an apartment building fire and the directions led to yours. We got here and people were standin’ outside, the fire was comin’ out of your apartment window,” he explained.

The screech of tires echoed in the empty street when Tony slammed down on them, his hands gripping tightly to the wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat through shaky breathing, hands trembling as he tried to process what Rhodey relayed to him.

“C’mon man, breathe.”

“I-I can't. Rhodey, please tell me Bucky's okay,” Tony whispered.

“I'm not sure we've been told there’s no fatalities, but I haven't seen Bucky.”

“I'll be right there, I-I'm fine,” he wavered.

“Tony, y’know if you speed here I need to give you a fine. So just take it easy,” Rhodey said.

Tony pushed the gear back into drive.

“So fine me then.”

Before Rhodey could reply, Tony ended the call and put his foot down on the accelerator, with little care that Rhodey would hand his ass to him, as well as a big fine. But all Tony could think about was Bucky. _Did he make it out? Was he hurt?_ Tony didn't want to think the worst, his thoughts refused to cross that bridge, that lingering, unsettling and nauseating feeling that Bucky may be gone.

Luckily the remainder of his journey home was quiet, no other cars, the rush hour traffic gone when he took the shortcut to the apartment. The first thing he saw was the remnants of smoke in the sky, puffing out like a cloud and illuminated by blue and red lights. He stopped near where a crowd had gathered from the neighbouring houses, killing the engine, before scrambling out of the car.

“ _Oh my god…_ ”

Tony weaved through the crowd after locking his car, keys stuffed in his jacket pocket that jingled as he picked up the pace. He noticed Rhodey and Natasha talking to witnesses, then ran past Steve and Thor who were tending to patients who suffered smoke inhalation. At another ambulance he saw Jack inside, wrapped in a blanket, an oxygen mask pressed to his nose and mouth, while holding Brock's hand from where he lay on the stretcher. Tony stopped when Jack glanced up, giving him a weak thumbs up to signal that they were okay, before pointing to the ambulance near them.The brunette turned his head in the direction Jack pointed him to, eyes widening a fraction when he saw Bucky. He was sitting on the edge of the ambulance, with an oxygen mask, blanket and dressings on his arms.

“Bucky, thank god!”

He lifted his head his head in time to see Tony come into view, tears spilling down his cheeks. Tony threw his arms around him tightly, one hand gripping the back of his shirt, while the other gravitated to his hair. The sensation of Tony's fingers brushing through his hair made Bucky lean further into Tony's touch, seeking out every ounce of comfort from him. Bucky's fingers clutched the back of Tony's shirt as he sniffled loudly, eyes soaked with a fresh batch of tears.

“I'm sorry…” Bucky murmured, his voice muffled by the mask.

“Hey, it's not your fault, shh,” Tony soothed.

“But it is,” he choked out.

Tony shook his head.

“No Bucky...no.”

Bucky bit down on his lip.

“I tried to cook dinner and I fucked up, Tony.”

“What?” the brunette said, tilting Bucky's head up with both hands.

“I wanted to cook dinner for you...for us. And I set the damn kitchen on fire ‘cause I got distracted. I'm an idiot! It's all my fault!”

“Oh Bucky. It's okay, you're safe. These things happen, it was an accident,” Tony stated.

“It wasn't!” Bucky sobbed, eyes closing tightly to stop the tears.

Tony wiped Bucky's tears away with his thumbs.

“C’mon, I'm here, you're going to be okay.”

He leant forward to place a gentle kiss on Bucky's forehead, feeling tears roll down the side of Bucky's face from the corners of his closed eyes.

“Don't cry sweetheart.”

Bucky's eyes opened to stare back at Tony with widened eyes, his breath fogging up the mask.

“What did you just say…”

“I said don't cry sweetheart,” Tony repeated.

The brunette’s eyes softened as he placed his hand on Tony's cheek.

“You're cryin’ too, what're ya’ cryin’ for?”

“Bucky, do you have any idea how scared I was? I was terrified. I called Rhodey and when he said he couldn't see you, that the fire was in _our_ apartment. I thought maybe you didn't make it out. When I thought that I couldn't fucking breathe,” he uttered.

“I don't-” Bucky paused. “...understand,” he added.

Tony smoothed Bucky's hair behind his ears, eyes looking back at him, still with fear, but mixed with... _affection._

“How could I deal with losing you before I got to tell you how I feel…”

Bucky's breath hitched.

“Tony…”

“I'm terrible at reading people. But I knew that I upset you after game night. The thing is...I wanted to tell you, and I held back from it when I shouldn't have. You're so important to me Bucky, as my best friend and as the one I'm in love with,” Tony said.

“What?”

Tony pulled the oxygen mask away, letting it fall against the brunette’s chest, his hands cupping Bucky’s face in his hands and leaning in close. He kissed Bucky chastely to start, testing to see how Bucky responded, deft fingers combing through soft hair. Bucky’s hands dropped to Tony’s waist, his eyes slowly closing as he parted his lips in response, the corner of his mouth twitching up slightly. Tony’s breath ghosted over his bottom lip, before they melted into the kiss, affection and love shared between them after the lengthy period of pining for each other.

Bucky’s fingers dug into the thick leather of Tony’s jacket, drawing him in to steal some body warmth, the blanket barely giving him any at all. Tony smiled into the kiss, following it with a breathy chuckle when he parted from it and Bucky moved forward for more. His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, obviously too caught up in the moment, wanting _more._ He’d always been unsure to what it’d be like to kiss Tony, but it was better than he expected from their first time going for it. Which was most likely _why_ he wanted to keep going, because it felt _so_ good.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” he breathed out.

Tony let out a laugh that sounded more like a honk, only making the pair laugh harder.

“You’re killing me Barnes.”

Bucky grinned widely.

“I was plannin’ on kissing you again.”

“Hm, I wouldn’t object to that,” Tony hummed, before sliding his arms around Bucky’s neck.

He inhaled sharply through his nose when they met in the middle again, pulling back now and again with light, tender pecks on each other’s mouths, between hushed words of sentiment. Bucky glanced up at Tony, with half lidded eyes, his smile somewhat dopey and fond.

“Is it gonna’ be too early to tell you that I love you?” Bucky murmured.

Tony sighed and kissed Bucky one more time, then embraced him tightly, tilting his head to the side to whisper to him.

“ _Never._ I love you too, Bucky...”


End file.
